


Loopholes

by Taliax



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Episode: s03 Maître Noël | Christmaster, F/M, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Identity Reveal, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, its just the whole dang love square because its a reveal babey, ok its marichat but also its definitely adrienette and ladynoir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: Chat Noir doesn't get why Ladybug gets to be the best-behaved kid in the world.She isn't.  She's too good at finding loopholes.(Marichat identity reveal fic, set after the episode Christmaster)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 57
Kudos: 563
Collections: Tali Brand Reveal Fics





	Loopholes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Alyce for "requesting" this (giving me an excuse to write it lol)

“I just don’t get why _Ladybug_ gets to be the best-behaved kid in the whole world,” Chat Noir complained from where he lay on Marinette’s chaise.

She sighed, dropping her forehead on her sewing machine. Why had Nino told Chat about that when he dropped Chris off? Chat Noir may not have a problem with her being the leader, but he never turned down the opportunity for a competition.

Apparently, that included one created by a fake Santa Claus.

“She’s amazing, sure, but well-behaved?” he continued. “She has to have as many tardies as me. Comes with the territory when you’re a superhero. I bet she has to lie to her parents and teachers to sneak out, too.”

Finally Marinette spun around in her desk chair, leaving the purse’s outer shell half-finished. 

“You’re the one who snuck out to come here.”

He leaned his head back, so he was looking at her upside-down. “Touché. But you never know, maybe Ladybug sneaks out to visit civilians too.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. 

“...Okay, she probably doesn’t. But coming to see you is hardly _hiss_ behaving. My father didn’t give me any explicit orders to stay home.”

“You’re too good at finding loopholes. I bet the best-behaved kid in the whole world doesn’t have to do that.” Marinette smirked.

Not that she minded Chat’s visits. Even if it was risky, she appreciated the time she got to spend with him outside of battles and patrols. She justified it with the idea that knowing him better would strengthen their partnership, even if he didn’t know she knew.

...Okay, maybe she _was_ looking for loopholes. But he’d wanted to stay friends with “Marinette” after her dad was akumatized, and it would feel like a betrayal to throw that away. 

“She probably doesn’t have as many rules in the first place,” Chat muttered, so quietly she almost didn’t hear.

Her heart sunk at that. The closer they’d become, the more comments like that slipped out. Hints that beneath his flamboyant exterior, everything wasn’t as simple as she’d once assumed.

Her head said she should ignore those hints. They could bring her too close to who he truly was.

Her heart, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore someone who was hurting.

_Ladybug is the best-behaved kid in the world. Let_ her _think with her head._

Tikki wouldn’t have liked that line of thought, but it was the only loophole Marinette had.

She rose from her chair and squeezed onto the chaise, pushing Chat’s legs aside. He didn’t waste time draping them back over her lap.

“The best-behaved kid wouldn’t use me as a footrest.” She tried to dispel the moment of gloom by flicking his foot. He’d removed his boots, as she always insisted he do before dropping onto her bed from her balcony.

“I bet the best-behaved kid wouldn’t make you smell his stinky toes, either.” He waggled them up towards her nose, and she laughed.

_“Chat!”_ She pushed his foot back down. “Gross!”

“Well, if I can’t be the best-behaved kid, I figure I might as well be the bad boy. I already pull off the black leather.” He flipped his hair and shot her a wink.

If her face went a little pink, it was only because he was so embarrassing.

“Please. We both know you saw a picture of a hamster yesterday and started crying because, and I quote, _‘it’s just. So. ROUND.’”_

His face reddened too. “That doesn’t count. Anyone would agree that was the cutest hamster to ever exist.”

It had been absolutely adorable. She’d printed out the picture and pinned it alongside her Adrien collage. Hopefully he liked hamsters as much as Chat Noir did.

“Keep telling yourself that, kitty cat.” She patted Chat’s kneecap. “But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Ladybug is actually the best-behaved kid in the world.”

“Really?” He sat up a little straighter. “But, Santa said—”

“Santa,” she mimed air quotes, “was the product of an akuma victim. An akuma victim who happened to be a delusional little boy.”

Marinette was under no illusion that she was _actually_ the best-behaved kid in the world. How many times had she stolen someone’s phone? Or plotted revenge against Chloé, even if she hadn’t gone through with it? Or lied to her parents, or slept through her alarm, or—as she had today—accidentally sparked an akumatization?

Chat Noir frowned. “If he was really delusional, wouldn’t Chris made _himself_ the best-behaved kid in the world?”

“Uh… well.” She stared down at his feet, which were still slung over her lap. He made a surprisingly comfortable, if distracting, blanket. “I might have told him that Ladybug was the best-behaved kid.”

“Really?” He squinted. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s a long story.” She sighed.

He leaned back on the chaise, wiggling a little to sink into the cushion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Darn. Sometimes Chat was too good of a listener.

“It’s embarrassing, honestly,” she admitted. “While I was babysitting him I made up a story that I was one of Santa’s Elves, and he wanted me to give him his Christmas present early, but obviously I’m _not_ an elf—”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Chat smirked.

She smacked his foot. “Watch it, or I’ll chop your legs off at the knees. _Then_ we’ll see who’s an elf.”

His eyes widened. “She’s an _angry_ elf.”

She couldn’t help laughing at that. “Anyway, I didn’t have a present for him, so I lied and said only the best-behaved kid in the world could get their present early.”

Chat reclined back on the chaise, tucking an arm behind his head. 

“Huh. Well I guess that rules _you_ out as the best-behaved kid.”

“Unlike _someone,_ I wasn’t really trying to be.” She stuck out her tongue, and he laughed.

“Fair enough. I guess it was a pretty dumb thing to worry about, anyway.”

Silence fell over them, but it was a comfortable one. Her explanation must have put him in a better mood. For that, it was worth embarrassing herself a little.

She couldn’t sit here with her kitty forever, though. Eventually she had to wiggle out from under his legs and return to her sewing machine.

“Awww. I was comfy,” Chat whined.

She was too, even if she wouldn’t dare admit it out loud. She had to keep _some_ trace of dignity.

“Sorry, but I do have responsibilities beyond being your footrest. I need to finish this birthday present for Alya by next week.”

She was sewing Alya a new purse, since Marinette had spilled tea on her old one. Alya hadn’t minded much—she said it gave her bag character—but Marinette still felt like she owed her.

In hindsight, she should’ve worked on that earlier today instead of starting Adrien’s fiftieth birthday present.

Chat slipped from the chaise into her spare desk chair, then rolled over to her.

“Can I help at all? The sooner you finish, the sooner we can play Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

“The sooner you can _lose_ at Ultimate Mecha Strike, you mean.” She smirked.

“Hey, I’ve been practicing! You might be surprised.” He wiggled his eyebrows beneath his mask, and she laughed.

“We’ll see. Anyway, you can grab me the liner fabric, if you promise not to snag it on your claws.” She pointed in the general direction of her fabric bin. One of these days she’d organize her room so it would fit closer to her desk, but that would be a whole project in itself.

“Liner fabric. Got it.”

She’d already turned her attention back to her sewing machine. The outer shell of the purse was nearly finished, but her bobbin had gotten tangled inside the machine, which always took a while to fix. Would it be better to leave it for a moment and start pinning the pattern to the liner fabric? Or could she trust Chat to do that while she fixed her sewing machine? 

“Chat, do you think you could—?” She looked up, then leapt from her chair. “ _What are you doing?”_

“Uh!” He slammed the lid of her trunk shut.

Her trunk. Which held all of Adrien’s birthday presents for the next fifty years. 

Heart pounding, she rushed to sit on the trunk, just in case he got any ideas about opening it again.

“Whatever you saw in there no you didn’t,” she breathed out quickly.

“I was just looking for the fabric!” He held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. 

“It was _right there!”_ She pointed at the bin next to the trunk.

“...Oh.” His face pinkened. “Uh. Well. Here you go!”

He picked up the whole bin—which was about twice the size of his torso—and shoved it towards her arms. She barely caught it without spilling satin and flannel everywhere.

He was acting too weird. Was it because he was afraid she was mad at him? Or was it because he’d put together what was in the trunk and decided that she was a super creepy weirdo who was going to die alone with no hamster and no Adrien— 

Stupidly, tears started to leak from her eyes. She _was_ a super creepy weirdo. Someone was bound to find out eventually. Adrien probably wouldn’t want all those presents anyway, or they’d be out of style by the time she gave them to him, or moths would eat them all up and she’d have to give him sweaters with _holes_ in them and that would be _gross—_

“Marinette.” Chat Noir called her back to reality. He gently took the fabric bin back and set it in its place. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to poke through your things.”

She sniffed and shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m just—I’m so stupid.”

She dropped her forehead against his chest, and his arms immediately wrapped around her. Would he be so quick to comfort her if he knew it was Ladybug who was so enthralled with another boy?

“Hey. You’re not stupid.” He rubbed her back soothingly, careful not to catch his claws in her sweatshirt. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I still have no idea what’s so important about a trunk full of presents.”

He… he didn’t? But all of the gifts had been delicately wrapped and labeled with both the year and Adrien’s name. Unless he couldn’t read her cursive script? Or maybe she’d caught him before he could make out the words in the dim lighting.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly.

“Princess.” He nudged her chin up, then bent down until their foreheads were nearly touching. “Are you _lying?”_

Something almost clicked _._ She’d heard that before, those words, that voice.

(Or maybe it was just his proximity making her brain short-circuit.)

“I—no! I mean— _fine,”_ she huffed. It was probably better to get this over with now than for him to wonder what she was hiding. He might think it was something even worse, like she was a serial killer cutting up her victims and wrapping their organs to deliver to their families on Christmas.

...Okay, that was a _little_ dark, even for one of her spiraling nightmares.

“I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she blurted before she could collect her thoughts.

He blinked. “Uh… should I be wondering that?”

She dropped her head in her hands. Well, at least this confession could hardly make her look any crazier.

“Then again, you _did_ threaten to chop off my legs…” he teased lightly.

“Forget the leg chopping. I’m just going to say it.” She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes and let it all spill out. “This chest is full of presents for Adrien Agreste because I’m in love with him and I’m such an idiot that I made him handmade gifts for his next thirty-six birthdays.”

There. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Definitely better that Chat knew than Chris. Chat at least couldn’t tell anyone without compromising his secret identity, and— 

And Chat was crying.

Chat. Crying.

_What?_

“Chat, I—are you okay—?”

He hugged her so tightly she could’ve burst.

Again: _what?_

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s done for m—for him,” Chat murmured into her hair. “I never knew you felt that way about—about him.”

She swallowed, trying to fight the warmth in her cheeks. Despite the strength of his embrace, there was something more tender about it than his previous hug. As if he were the one receiving thirty-six handmade birthday presents, and not Adrien.

_Adrien._

Finally, she felt it _click._

_ADRIEN_.

It was him. His voice asking if she was lying. His eyes that had seen her gifts. 

His arms holding her, as if she was something precious.

“S-someone sounds jealous,” she managed to tease, though inside she was turning to goo. 

Why was she already falling apart? All she had to go off of was his awkward reaction and one gut feeling. She needed to think with her head, not her heart.

(Her heart might not last long if he kept holding her, anyway.)

“Jealous?” He pulled back, brow furrowing. “Why would I be jealous of my—” His eyes widened. “My… good buddy Adrien Agreste? I mean, he might be a hot teen model, but _I’m_ a hot teen superhero.”

He flexed his bicep, and for a moment he nearly convinced her. Surely _Adrien_ wasn’t as much of a show-off as Chat Noir.

If she wanted to know for sure, she’d have to take a more direct approach. But… _did_ she want to know? Her head said she shouldn’t. That revelation could change everything.

Her heart beat faster at the thought.

It could change _everything._

“Do you want to open one?” she asked shyly.

“Open…?”

“Open a present.” She brushed his bangs back from his face, and for a moment, his hair looked exactly like Adrien’s usual style. “They’re for you, aren’t they?”

“They’re… then you…” His jaw dropped. “You _knew?”_

“I do now.” She grinned, a giddy squeal bubbling inside her. It was _him!_ Adrien didn’t think she was a creepy weirdo! He thought she was _sweet!_

“Then you… do you still mean the things that you said? About being in—in love with, um, me?” He leaned back, bracing his arms against the trunk’s floral-print lid. “Because I really don’t want to hurt you, or get your dad akumatized again. I care about you so much, Marinette _._ That’s why I won’t lie to you. I’m still in love with Ladybug.”

He winced, as if fearing retaliation. After the last time she’d confessed to him, she guessed she shouldn’t be surprised.

But now, he didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I sort of hoped you’d say that, kitty.” She smiled.

Then she whispered, _“Spots on.”_

The look on his face was something she wouldn’t forget in nine lifetimes. Mouth gaping, pupils wide, reflecting the pink light of her transformation.

Tikki might have words with her after this, but it was all worth it for the look of complete adoration that swept over him.

“My lady.” He hugged her again, breathing her in, purring so loudly she could feel it. “ _My lady.”_

“My Adrien,” she murmured back, then froze. “Um, If I can call you—”

“Please.” His voice was breathless. “I’ll be your Adrien. For now, and for the next thirty-six birthdays to come.”

She choked out a laugh. “I still can’t believe _that’s_ how I confessed to you.”

“I admit it’s not exactly what I imagined, but I’m not complaining.” He rubbed her back, sending tingles up and down her spine. “Do I still get to take you up on that early present offer? Even if I’m not the best-behaved kid in the world?”

This time, she was the one to tilt his chin upwards.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” 

She smirked, though her red face probably betrayed her attempt to look suave. 

“I think we can find one more loophole.”


End file.
